“I know the way.” Snorri looked up, eyes red, jaw set, scary as hell. “I’ll have the key now—you can stay or go.”

I studied the broad palm he held out toward me, and pursed my lips. “I didn’t break Hennan out of one prison and storm another single-handed just to give you a key that we earned, all three of us, me, you, and Tuttugu. I came in to save your lives. And given that I could have just walked off with the key instead some might say I’ve got a pretty good claim to owning it now. So the least you can do is ask rather than demand, and perhaps show a little fucking gratitude.” I regretted the profanity the moment it left my mouth. Partly because a prince of the realm doesn’t want to be seen lowering himself to gutter talk with commoners but mainly because of the sunlight burning on the edge of the axe fixed across his back in a leather harness I’d recently paid for.

A dangerous silence stretched between us, slowly tightening every muscle I had in anticipation of being imminently hit. Snorri reached out and I flinched so violently that I nearly struck his hand away. He took hold of my shoulder, deep blue eyes finding mine, and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Jal. I don’t know how you got to us but it took guts, and skill. I thank you for it. Tuttugu will be telling the tale over the tables at Valhalla. The north won’t forget it. You are a true friend, and I was wrong to speak to you like that.”

We stood there a minute, him with his head bowed, looming above me, hand heavy on my shoulder, me puffing up with pride. Some men can just lift you with a few words. Snorri was one of them, and although I knew how it worked, and had seen it before, it still worked.

I put the key into the open palm of his other hand and his fist closed about it. The sense of loss was immediate, even though I knew the thing to be ten kinds of poison.

“I have to do this,” he said, sounding for all the world as if he actually did.

I tried to fathom that one. He had to take the key to the man who had sent assassins to kill him for it? He had to take the key to the man who wanted it badly enough to reach out more than a thousand miles for it? He had to enter the lair of a deadly mage and face ridiculous odds . . . and the “prize” was to open a door into death and start another suicidal quest that couldn’t possibly give him what he wanted?

“You really don’t.”

“I do. And there’s no man I’d rather have with me than you, Jalan, Prince of Red March. But this is my journey and I won’t ask anyone to share the danger. I took you north against my enemies—I’m not going to lead you into Hel.”

Dammit if I didn’t find my mouth opening to contradict him. I managed to strangle off a defiant declaration that I’d stand by him against all the hordes of the underworld.

“Look. Kelem wants you there. He’s been pulling you south with that wound in your side. He blocked you from the door in Eridruin’s Cave and would have shut any others you went to. You know he’s reeling you in. Christ, you’re only out of that tower because of the dreams!”

“What dreams?” Kara stepped closer, eyebrows raised.

My shoulders slumped. “Kelem hired a dream-witch, Sageous, we met him in Ancrath, Snorri and I. He plagued me with nightmares about Hennan until I found him. Hennan led me to Snorri. There, I didn’t come after anyone out of heroism. I came because I couldn’t sleep. Weeks of not sleeping will have a man ready to try anything for peace.”

“Weeks?” Kara smiled and turned away.

“Weeks!”

“But we were only captured five days ago,” she said.

I stared at her retreating back, trying to re-evaluate myself. Perhaps I did have a conscience after all . . .

Snorri took his hand from me and stepped back. “We both know the key is a curse, Jal. There’s no happiness in it, only trickery. You’ll save yourself more sorrow than you can imagine if you give it up.”

He held Loki’s key out to me, compassion in his eyes. “But you’re right—you earned it. I had no right to demand it from you.” Kara turned and stared with such intensity that I thought at any moment she might leap forward and snatch the thing from him.

Part of me suspected Snorri had it right—I should refuse it. Even so, if I had a future in Vermillion it probably started with me placing Loki’s key into my grandmother’s care. And more than that I just plain didn’t want to give it up.

I took the key from him. “I’m not going through the door if we find it, but I’ll come with you and carry this burden until the last. And if you stand before that door and ask me to unlock it . . . I will.” I made it a bold and manly speech, meeting him eye to eye. “It’s what a friend would do.” Also keeping his company while heading in an unexpected direction would probably be my best chance at not being caught by Umbertide’s authorities and thrown back in jail. Kara shot me a suspicious glance as if she could read my mind, but if she could then after all those weeks lusting for her in that boat her opinion of me probably couldn’t be lowered. I gave her a winning smile, slapped Hennan on the back and led off, the key deep in my pocket once more.

Tags: Mark Lawrence The Red Queen's War Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net